Coming Out
by TheLions'PaleProtector
Summary: Inivited to Draco's quarters to discuss a possible truce, Harry hears something he completely misunderstands- or does he? Rated M. HPDM Slash One-shot. Inspired by Pink


**Coming Out**

**Summary: **Invited to Draco's room for a possible truce, Harry hears something he completely misunderstands- or does he? Inspired by lyrics from Pink.

Despite years of hatred and intense rivalry with one Draco Malfoy, Harry now found himself braving the cold dungeon corridors for said Slytherin's private quarters. And he still had no clue why. Except that the platinum blonde had for some reason invited him and maybe he didn't hate him quite so much anymore.

Not to mention he was probably the only one who could really identify with him now. After it appeared Hermione came down with a case of brain fever and ran off with Lucius Malfoy one night and Ron got ripping drunk and slept with an equally smashed Pansy [who he decided wasn't so bad after all].

So that left Harry and Draco pretty much alone or always in each others' company, new connections tying them uncomfortably close. Which was logically a good reason to try and get along [aka not attempt murder], but when had Malfoy ever been logical? And why had he agreed without even stopping to think it might be a trick?

Harry sighed, running a hand through his already mussed hair. Will the madness never cease? He shook his head. At least Voldemort wasn't around anymore, with the surprising betrayal of his top Death Eaters. At least there was a plus to all this.

Caught in his own thoughts, he only just noticed he was outside the portrait leading to Malfoy's room. And, murmuring the password included with his invitation, he noticed music in a feminine voice that sounded vaguely familiar from his last visit to the Dursely's.

More than a little puzzled, he stepped in…. And saw his [former?] nemesis, eyes closed with a smile on his face, humming along as he magically decorated the room to the lyrics, _'I'm coming out, so you better get the party started….'_

Eyebrows shooting up, Harry turned his gaze to the nearby coffee table... where a muggle CD player and accompanying discs sat? Escalated surprise turned into confusion and something like amusement at the title/artist. 'Pink? Coming out? Wasn't that … um, some sort of muggle euphemisms for gay?

Choking back a half-gasp, half-laugh, he listened again as the lyrics repeated and Draco [when had it become Draco?] went from re-decorating to taking a bite out of some summoned food. Harry had to look away as the other boy sighed in pleasure.

But as it continued, he knew he was being stupid and shoved his hesitation aside as amusement rose again… with an opportunity to embarrass Draco to take the edge off. A giant grin spread across his face. "Muggle music, Draco? And one about 'coming out?' Interesting choice. Trying to say something?"

The other boy let out a yell and dropped his sandwich as he spun around, eyes flashing. "Harry! Err, I mean Potter. What're you doing here so early?" Silvery eyes narrowed to slits, clearly not liking being caught bopping around and singing, much less the newly registering comments.

"Really, Scarhead, I thought you'd appreciate the music- you _are_ disgustingly Muggle-raised after all. And I am most certainly not saying anything else!" At Harry's raised eyebrow and disbelieving look, Draco sneered, folding his arms.

"What would you know Potter? And the lyrics are _'I'm coming __**up**__,'_ not _'I'm coming __**out**__.'_ Pay attention." He sniffed haughtily, "I'll have you know, this came highly recommended. And in fact, 'Just like a pill' is quite reminiscent of you."

Harry couldn't help but snicker though he ignored the obvious jibe. "For a pureblood stickler, you sure know a lot about these kinds of things. More than I do, actually, in this case. Are you sure you're not just a closet case… I mean, fan? Or was this all for my benefit? On that note, that's a lotta effort for someone you claim to hate."

Draco's hands flew up and he spluttered, "It doesn't mean anything! I just told you I wanted a truce, as we'll no doubt be forced to continue playing nice. Your friends _did_ put some sort of spell on the few most important people in my life and steal them away!"

Harry laughed low in his throat and stepped closer, loving not being on the defensive for a change, and Draco stepped back, discernibly shaken. "Hey, you may be a queer, but I'm not! I like girls! I've had lotsof them- _lots_. Like… Pansy. Most of Slytherin, really." The subject was clearly a sensitive one. Harry's lips twitched into a little smile seeing the blonde try to recover his attitude.

"First, my friends didn't put any such spell on anyone… it's much more likely your Slytherins corrupting them." His smile turned serpentine, leaning in as if to share a secret, "But as for the other… We heard your reputation was mostly rumor and that while you two have been close, it was never more than friendship." "What? We've made out plenty!" Draco objected angrily.

"When drunk? Ron told me in the wake of one of their fights, quite relieved, that it was only once completely sober and you were both equally disgusted." "Just because it didn't work with her, who's more of a sister…." It was almost too easy to mess with him.

The brunette smirked, examining his nails almost boredly and saying as if in recitation of old news, "And when Ron accused her of lying and still being in your little harem, she said all the girls had been a show and you were never really into any of them. So I wonder…."

Draco gulped, looking torn between panic and fury at his best friend for revealing so much. He wasn't likely to share with her again! "Ridiculous," he scoffed, with a touch of anxiety. "There's nothing to wonder. She lies. Everyone does, but especially Slytherins. But even if she didn't, it's not my fault that none of those girls had any talent. And maybe I was just being gentlemanly. A muggle-raised half-blood like you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Though if you're gonna be so rude, you can leave." He tried for his trademark sneer.

"I don't know why you would even wonder about me anyway, Scarhead. Unless…" "Excuses and diversions off subject," Harry tsked softly, eyes sparkling. Lowering his lashes, his hand brushed Draco's lightly as he circled the platinum blonde, and green eyes met silver with a wicked grin. "I think you protest way too much."

Harry tilted his head, tongue curling around his teeth, "And I thought you wanted a truce?" The Slytherin's gaze wavered, Adam's apple bobbing, and he side-stepped the boy savior again to distract himself with the food arrangements, the grin and the teasing note in the last statement putting a crack in his voice. But he cleared his throat, managing to look cool, raising a brow himself.

"Gay, Potter. Real gay." "I never denied it," the dark-haired boy murmured smoothly, practically a purr. He loved that he shook Draco up so while he was perfectly at ease. Harry smirked, a small noise emitting from the pale throat, the owners' glimmering eyes wide, "What? But you're Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived! Girls are always all over you!"

"And never visa versa." The Slytherin's look was returned with amusement. "You said it." "I expected you to deny it, then we'd go back to arguing." His voice sounded strained. Harry shrugged, "And the truce?" "I changed my mind. Obviously it's not working. Let's go back to hating each other."

The voice was steadier now but the tone rushed, stilted as well, the leaner-bodied pureblood tense. Anyone else might've believed him, might've taken his body language to read 'disgusted' or 'disinterested', as Draco clearly wanted him to see. But he'd already given away too much.

And Harry was almost hoping for different- after all, if the truce was a gag, he wasn't walking away with nothing to show while Draco had the 'gay' ammo. Because everyone knew that was just laughable, right? Only confidence and sensuality showed in his movements, whatever his mind was puzzling over, as his fingers tripped up Draco's arm underneath the sleeve of his robes.

Part of his admired the smooth white skin with tight, corded muscle, the flickering behind pale, closed eyelids with light blue veins that strangely tempted him… It _was_ laughable, wasn't it? Harry James Potter, gay? But if he was just playing with Draco to embarrass him or as a power trip, what was this?

He'd never denied it, true, but never really admitted it either [even fully to himself], so…. With a shake of his head, he blew that train of thought away. Later. Now, he wanted to see what Draco did. "What about Chang, or the Weaselette? I know you liked them, messed around with them."

This time Draco sounded no where near as calm and collected, but wasn't moving away anymore either, allowing the tender exploration. Harry wanted to laugh for a moment, and the thought came that maybe Draco was allowing this because he didn't want to jump back and completely give away that it _did_ shake him. Therefore losing all 'cool points' and meriting suspicion.

But Draco still looking like he could take it or leave it, almost ready to catch himself if/when Harry pushed him away. 'A snake and a Malfoy, but still a man,' he thought, what? Surprised? Admiringly? Affectionately? "You know when I first really noticed Cho, thought I liked her?" Harry shocked himself by saying.

"We were playing Quidditch. I admired her freedom, her flying, her passion for the game, and it translated into 'crush.' How could I really admire her body when it was under shapeless robes? Or like her face when it was a blur or a chapped mask of aggression? On the field and by the locker rooms I knew how to act with her- she was just one of the guys like all the other female players. There was no other way to act- they wouldn't have it any other way."

He laughed, fingers nearing Draco's collarbone as he stared off absently. The other boy visibly twitched. "There, there was a set way to treat them and I was comfortable then. Outside that, I wasn't so at ease. Our first kiss, when she was crying over Cedric and I didn't know what else to do, was awkward at best. Like with Ginny, who I now regard as more of a sister. Like you and Pansy." Harry grinned.

Draco scowled briefly but it dropped under a barely suppressed shudder as the Gryffindor's caress moved up his neck. "Any other relationships with girls went just the same, so don't ask." And it was true, Harry realized. Every bit of it. His whole social life had been a disaster.

So had it always been like this and he didn't want to see it? Was that where Draco was, a special sort of denial? What was it about him that made him want to let it all out? And how ironic, 'outing' himself when he was trying to 'out' Draco. But that was his life. "But…" He cut the other Seeker off with a shake of his head and a soft laugh, thinking 'First round goes to me.'

"Do you always have to be one step behind?" Harry stopped the other boy's protests with one hand stroking down his chest, leaning in even closer so his breath teased a waiting ear, and wondering what he was doing. 'He could be faking, this could all be a trick or a test and if you back out now, he wins,' a voice whispered in the back of his mind.

And years of watching his back, training himself against the like, against a war, agreed. But seeing Draco with his head tipped back like that, swallowing heavily, lips wet and hair falling away like an angels'…. The look in those eyes when the lashes lifted, both steady and storming, anticipating and resigned, cool but so [helplessly?] hot and wanting, waiting…. And it hit him like a lightning bolt.

First, this was no game, and Second, he couldn't mess with Draco anymore like he expected. He couldn't tease him, 'out' him, then pull away. Not after that look. Lastly, he wanted this, really wanted it- to touch and taste and reach, watch the expressions on the others' face change. With another man. With Draco. "Truce," he whispered under his breath- and a rush of desire filled him.

The flicker of a question leapt into the silvered pools of Draco's eyes at the barely audible remark. But it flew back out as the hand pausing on his stomach, thumb sweeping beneath the band of his trousers undecided, slid down to encompass his arousal. Then heat replaced confusion and a hitch of breath the silence. Harry turned his head so his lips brushed that one ear with every word, "I told you you protest too much. I admitted I might be gay, but I also know you like guys and I can prove it."

"Prove it?" the Slytherin asked a bit huskily, the familiar challenge in his eyes, more confident and at ease in this game. The seduced. "Mmm hmm," he replied somewhat casually as if it were any other challenge, lips now teasing the pulse-point that has so tempted him.

His fingers played lightly over the satin and steel rod they covered. They learned as they went- and Draco looked so together now, eyes shuttered, eyebrow slightly arched, almost unshakeable with that smile. 'Like you can,' his look read arrogantly. A change from before, and all that it took was a cue from him. Harry hid another grin. He was good.

"Oh yea? Try me," the silken voice breathed almost tauntingly with his usual flair, despite the fact the dark-haired wizard obviously _was_ trying him… and successfully too, if the growing length was any proof. Teeth flashed daringly and Harry's hand closed, tightened in a firm grip that made Draco bite off a moan.

'Only Malfoy,' he chuckled in his head before trying to catch a breath himself, jeans constricting painfully. The blonde brushing against him wasn't helping either. "You're on." And Harry's mouth closed over Draco's. Those lips were petal soft under his, heaven, and with minimal resistance parted before the forceful probing to plunge them both into a hot, dark, unbelievably sweet world.

Draco's hands came up to claim his forearms in a bruising grip, just taking it, hips slowly moving with him, and he made a picture looking down at those hands, the contrast, and back. His head was swimming and his eyes dazed, dizzy, but the sensations were incredible. 'Who would've thought all that feuding over the years was unresolved sexual tension?'

And he moaned softly, pushing Draco into the wall, deciding he _really_ liked the strength in the hands clutching him, the hard body against his. 'Oh yea, I'm so gay,' he thought to himself, laughing into Draco's mouth as he pulled away, watching the fierceness return to the mercurial orbs, brows furrowing.

Shaking his head again as he looked at him with dancing eyes, he lowered his lips back softer this time, rubbing back and forth, kneading, nipping along the jaw before returning to press further. And when Draco began to reciprocate, Harry nearly lost his mind.

His entire frame shuddering, he minimized the space between them even further, tongues dueling, his hand moving faster, harder, pumping, almost jerking the reactions right out of his classmate and milking them, the two bodies so close he felt every stroke himself. And taking in the muted, nearly unwilling cries, the yet leashed tempo and 'sampling', languid responses the Slytherin kept, still too in control for his tastes, Harry got an idea.

'Prove it,' he'd said. Open his eyes. But how when he was so new to this himself? A devilish look lit his face even where his mouth met Draco's, eyes glinting with mischief. How indeed? His heart fluttered with indecision at what he was planning, but his blood churned all the same. The almost forbidden element was a seductive one.

Taking his lips, and hands, from his former rival once more to something of an aggravated sound, he applied himself to a different task. Quickly murmuring a set of chants best suited to preparing for sleep, he had Draco's shirt gone, robes and braies undone and wide open, and his body glistening fresh. The sight drove him crazy all over again, but he was focused on the one between Draco's legs.

Gulping, he missed the other boys' sharp intake of breath, and before he remembered he was the seducer, or the one proving something, he was a bit intimidated. This was it, right? No turning back? But a glance up at the Slytherin's face brought it all back to him with a smirk and burning hunger in his gut. No judgment here and now, no need for fear, just desire. And need. The rest of him tasted so good…

Wetting his lips, he settled on his knees, stroking along Draco's glowing member again with growing fascination and watching it flush further, a bead of moisture at the head. And leaning, he captured it on his tongue, tasting salt and pure male, sucking the turgid cock into his mouth.

This time the platinum blondes' pleasured groan, half-sobbing, was loud and clear, as was the thud of his head against the wall, flung back, body straining. And his fingers found Harry's thick mane, digging in. "Potter," Draco breathed. A warning or a prayer he didn't know.

Emerald eyes flicking upwards, he marveled at the change in him- pale lids squeezed shut, lashes almost fanned out over skin like marble, hiding quixotic silver eyes that had always infuriated or, God forbid, intrigued him. The mouth he knew was soft and succulent yet impossibly masculine was red and wet from his kiss, face caught in an image of sweet agony… And that chest…

Who would've guessed plain school robes could hide something that good? 'Or that I would catch on so quickly?' but he'd always just seen the sneer, and the goons, the leaner frame, and under-estimated his muscle and worth, over-estimated his power to terrify. How human he could be. How beautiful…

Maybe that was partly why the sight obsessed him so… he'd never seen him anyway else but angry, sneering, in control, cold. And now… Feeling him…. Tasting him…. Lord, tasting him! Harry closed his eyes then, strangely savoring the action, sucking harder, feeling Draco's knees buckle a little, just barely skimming his teeth over the sensitive appendage, testing almost curiously.

And he got harder and harder as his still confined arousal rubbed against Draco's leg. Something of a reminder as to who, or at least what, he was as much as a self-stimulant/relief as the other boy groaned again… and tried to cover it with a cough.

Then a gasp as Harry doubled the sensations, humming around the cock in his mouth and taking it deep, finding that sweet spot he only knew of through previous experimentation with his fingers…

And Draco's knees gave all the way, only supported by Harry's swift thinking and magic as his orgasm washed over him, swallowed by that clever mouth.

His body shuddered as he opened his eyes to find Harry's still on him, the green-eyed boys' mouth still wrapped around that most intimate part of him, cleaning him with amazing precision. Draco panted, lids slamming shut again as if the sight was too much for him, just enjoying it and tried desperately to grasp some control.

"Doesn't prove much, Potter," he said after he caught his breath again, trying to pull away, turning his head. "Just that I'm a guy and my body reacts- the same as if a girl did it." He licked his lips, the challenge lying tantalizingly on his tongue and in his stormy eyes when he looked back at Harry.

And the dark-haired wizard flashed his teeth in an almost predatory smile, "Really?" he purred, hand closing around Draco's already hardening cock again. "Really," Draco breathed in response to that smile either teasing or trying to stick to his earlier claims of heterosexuality. He couldn't remember anymore with those eyes on him.

"Well then let me try again." And Harry got to his feet, stripping off his clothes with the flick of a wrist, and pinned Draco back to the wall, diving in for a kiss. He didn't know what was real and what was play anymore when his naked body touched Draco's partially clothed one, when the Slytherin seemed to forget himself and kissed Harry with a force and fervor that stole his breath… before giving him a mischievous look and returning to languid.

All he knew was that everything was spinning out of control as Harry found his hands sliding up Draco's side under his opened robe and cupped his ass, pulling him closer, fingers probing. Eyes bright as he remembered something he overheard from Seamus and Dean, he backed Draco up against the couch and flipped him over, half-standing half-bent, laughing against the smooth skin of his shoulder as the other boy tried to move.

"Uh uh uh," he murmured, giving him a jaunty lick as he circled arms around his waist. "None of that now. I'm proving your point, remember? If you're not gay you won't like this so much. And if you are… well, it won't hurt that bad." Breathing one spell to numb pain as well as another for lotion, he slicked it over Draco's hard-on and making him moan, moving closer to the back.

"Then won't I be embarrassed?" Harry asked archly with a small grin, heart pounding. Then he eased a finger into Draco's arse, massaging from the inside almost, moving it in and out in a parody of what he'd soon be doing. And hearing a hitch in breath as Draco arced back, breathing harder, he swirled his tongue over smooth skin, fisting him as he added another finger, going deeper.

"Harry," Draco gasped after a grunt of pain turned into pleasure and he paused, teasing him a little more. Biting his lip, chest moving with his labored breath, he positioned the dripping head of his cock between the round cheeks, Draco pushing back to meet him almost subconsciously. "God," the Gryffindor moaned, thrusting into him. "I know I am, but move!" the platinum blonde panted, clutching the sofa cushions.

Harry's eyes came part way open, his laugh startlingly himself as he obeyed with another deep groan.

'Only Malfoy,' he thought, hands moving to Draco's hips, head falling back as the heat consumed him. And somehow it fit- the various mental pictures he had of Draco converging to form almost a new person… or a more fully faceted one.

Arrogant and nervously unsure, quiet and garrulous, strong and weak, defensive and aggressive, annoying and surprising and silly… and unbelievably hot spread before him naked. Everything burst apart, shattering when he thrust again into Draco and they both cried out, moving hungrily, pistoning, reaching, pieces reforming.

Harry gulped furiously, leaning further into the boy beneath him, images flashing behind his eyelids and lungs struggling as their bodies collided over and over. And then they stiffened at once- a mutual orgasm rocking them, Draco coming apart all over the sofa and Harry into him… and it was over with a bang.

He couldn't tell how long they lay like that, collapsed together on the rug, or even how they got there, just that they were when he lazily opened his eyes, Draco starting to move. And somehow it wasn't awkward that they were still obviously naked and sweaty and sticky. Just a bit uncomfortable. "I think we just exceeded curfew," Harry said somewhat stupidly, yawning as he stared at the darkened ceiling.

There was a pause and then a snort of laughter from Draco as he sat up, combing his hands through his hair. Then emerald green eyes shot to the other boy, not knowing when he ever heard him laugh before- truly laugh, not cold mockery. Or when he ever saw him look so open, inviting…'It must be sleep,' Harry decided. 'Or sex. He should definitely look that way more often, whatever it is.'

"I think we did," Draco snickered, looking around before the mercurial eyes fell on them again. And he swallowed, one pale hand pinching his nose as he fell back into a loose cushion. "I think I'm gay," he moaned quietly with what Harry knew was his usual drama. "I think you are," Harry chuckled, sitting up himself with a grin, "But I think I am too- so we're even." Draco laughed at that, looking a bit better.

"And messy too." With a half-smile, rolling his eyes, Harry waved his hand over them, saying a cleaning spell. "There," he said, grinning even wider. "Impressive," the Slytherin remarked, raising a brow. "Good thing for you we've called a truce, or I'd really hate you for that."

"You should- Snape's teaching me wandless magic and occlumency," Harry taunted, grabbing his robes. "My godfather and head of house? Never!" Draco scoffed playfully. "He hates you." "Believe what you will- I could just disillusion you later." Draco made a face and sat back up, taking his own robes, and Harry smiled briefly. "Doesn't mean I like you any better though," Draco called nonchalantly, fixing his hair in the mirror.

"Yep, you still make me ill," Harry agreed, and then they both cracked up, remembering the songs. "Tomorrow, same time same place?" Draco asked with a roguish grin. The Gryffindor smiled again, "Definitely- then we can really get this party started." More laughter. "But this time-" Draco trailed as Harry headed for the portrait hole.

The dark-haired wizard looked over, raising a brow. "I'm on top." And the Slytherin smirked as the other boy swallowed heavily, flushed and nodded before disappearing with a suspicious bulge in his pants. "I could learn to live with this," Draco murmured, taking another sandwich from one of the plates on the table. Humming, he sat back on the sofa. "I'm coming out…. So you better get the party started….."

**Fin**


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